


Fallin' Love, And Bein' Friends

by Claus_Lucas



Category: Mother 2: Gyiyg no Gyakushuu | EarthBound
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, Post-Canon, everyone just has a big ol' gay time, lots of platonic and romantic fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-01
Updated: 2017-02-01
Packaged: 2018-09-20 23:44:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,883
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9521312
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Claus_Lucas/pseuds/Claus_Lucas
Summary: Dinner in the woods! Pillow fort sleepover! Alien movie marathon everyone totally cries at! Ness teleports onto the roof and can't get down! Paula plays garage rock with an electric guitar! Poo brings an iguana as an anniversary gift?Plus, the hot new scoop: Jeff has been composing songs for Tony in secret?





	

**Author's Note:**

> the [golden gaytime](http://68.media.tumblr.com/a3f02ec09b4ce39eeea34b02e24bc7b5/tumblr_inline_ojmvcbB0XR1uwf31p_500.png) joke is thanks to [winifred](http://abimee.tumblr.com/)
> 
>  
> 
> [Takk...](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ojLgN7wqc5A)

It’s three in the morning and Jeff’s insomnia has caused him to stand, rearrange his pillows, and then tuck himself back into bed for the last time. Reflexively, he tries to figure out exactly what time it is by checking the clock on the wall. When he fails to locate it, he remembers that Tony’s started taking it down when they go to bed so Jeff won’t obsess. Unfortunately, the ambiguity of the early morning hours, especially on the night before his first day of college, spikes his anxiety just the same, if not worse. He already exhausted his patience waiting for sleep to envelope him. What he needs now is a change of pace, even if it means sacrificing precious time.

The floor of their dorm is littered with oddities, everything from past textbooks and chemistry kits to half-finished model vehicles from Tony’s collection. Jeff maneuvers the mess with ease, however, familiar enough with its arrangement since he’s the main architect.

Occasionally Tony will become fed up and wait for Jeff to leave the room so he can do some tidying up: organize the contents of drawers, alphabetize their “library” (they’ve been talking about acquiring a bookcase for years but thus far they continue to gather tomes into various piles), vacuum the carpet, wash Jeff’s “mid-use” clothes, and so on. It takes Jeff a while to adjust to such changes when he returns, which leads to him constantly asking Tony where he stuffed his possessions, though Tony can predict most of Jeff’s requests before they’re vocalized and will simply point in the right direction, earning himself a quiet and embarrassed “thank you.” Tony shouldn’t, but he finds it amusing how Jeff can keep his bearings straight in the dark when the dorm’s an absolute mess, then stumble every few minutes when there’s literally nothing in his way.

Tony is a light sleeper, quick to pass out but just as easily roused from it. He requires double the usual amount - about twelve hours - to feel completely invigorated, which he explains as a side effect of his messy and often vivid dreaming. Jeff says he’s like a cat, snoozing whenever he gets a chance but always with one eye open. He’s also prone to kicking and speaking in his sleep, even singing sometimes, and not the soft, mumbling sort - no, he shrieks, all passion and no skill, like a bird testing their vocal cords for the first time. It wakes Jeff up, but he’s hardly resentful when a bout of hail will do the same thing. Truthfully, were it not for the fact that several of their bed sheet tent sleepovers involved Tony accidentally punching Jeff in the face, they already would’ve traded their twin beds for a mattress that fit both of them.

Jeff focuses on exiting the room, keeping his gaze in front of him and not once tripping. Once out, he ransacks his mind for a suitable activity. There are magazines and novels piled in the lounge, most of which he’s already read, but there’s a chance he’ll find something new that’ll pique his interest. He prefers not to be approached when he’s trying to trick his brain into drowsiness, though, even if it’s just a casual greeting and inquiry as to why he’s up so late. Being reminded of the time will definitely undo any progress he’s made on relaxing.

Stooping over the table, Jeff wastes a minute choosing a title and then tucks it under his arm. He isn’t certain that he’ll be reading but perhaps he can find a more convenient spot. One of the labs should suffice. Most students stay away from them during break (Jeff knows because he can’t count himself amongst them).

On the way down, Jeff remembers that he’s been expecting a package from his friends in Eagleland. It was scheduled for today but Jeff and Tony were so absorbed in college preparations that they completely overlooked checking the mailroom. They’re old enough now to receive their own mail but often still expect a teacher to pop into their dorm with it. Receiving mail, let alone a package, is rare for them anyway. There isn’t much besides the handful of subscriptions to literary magazines (for Tony) and choose-your-own-adventure stories (for both of them). Ness, Paula, and Poo - the only people outside of Snow Wood that are close enough to Jeff to warrant messaging - usually employ telepathy. Gifts are also delivered through teleportation (Poo has mastered the teleportation of small objects; Ness can, too, but his form is less refined: dropping a toolbox on Jeff’s arm, materializing a tray of cupcakes in a full tub, that sort of thing). Paula and Ness’s decision to send something through regular airmail is so extraordinarily ordinary that it’s exciting. The perfectly mundane use of time, energy, and sentiment had Jeff rocking with happiness when he opened the email from Ness announcing that it was on its way. There’s no doubt in Jeff’s mind that it must be special. Psychics hate doing things the normal way when they could use their powers instead, so this is like a compromise - crossing to Jeff’s side rather than the usual Jeff receiving their telepathic messages and watching them cook without once touching the ingredients or utensils.

The mailroom is always open so Jeff has no trouble entering. He doesn’t have the key to their box but he carries the Bad Key Machine with him everywhere, including to bed. It’s a safety precaution - in case of another supernatural emergency.

Jeff peeks through the opening and, as expected, a rectangular package comes into focus. It’s wrapped in colorful paper, various flowers pictured throughout it. Already jittery, Jeff finds a pair of scissors so he can cut it open without destroying all of the paper.

Inside there are several surprises. The first thing Jeff pulls out is a cassette, an item that’s quickly becoming a technological relic but for which Jeff has a soft spot in his heart (for one, they’re far more aesthetically pleasing than CDs). Scrawled on the surface are the names of a few Icelandic rock bands, all of which he recognizes.

A lopsided smile forms across his lips. Obviously this is from Ness, who boasted for days that he’d find Icelandic indie bands so obscure even Jeff’s nerdiness wouldn’t know them. Regardless of the fact that Ness failed, Jeff can’t wait to pop this into his player and hear his friend’s selection. When it comes to music, Ness is an all-over-the-place type of person. He knows nothing of genres and he’s practically tone deaf but loves most of what he hears. He’d have better luck impressing Jeff with some dream pop or witch house. Then again, this is surely about the thrill of playing on Jeff’s turf.

Jeff stuffs the cassette in his pocket and grabs a smaller box, this one a combination of pink and gray with a human character on the front. A note is taped to it, which reads:

_Hi, Jeff!_

_You’ve been working hard on your music for a few years now so I wanted to get you something that could help with that. Sorry it’s so overdue, but it was a bit hard to locate (I had to ship it from overseas!). Anyway, it’s a voice synthesizing software, originally in Japanese but this one has an English version, too! With your tech talent, I’m sure you could even get it to sing in Icelandic. Happy birthday! I’ll be looking forward to what you make this year, too._

_From your pal, Paula._

_By the way, has Tony still not figured out that you’ve been writing music for him? He likes the same music as you, doesn’t he? You better watch out - one day you’ll upload a song with a title so obviously a reference to him that he’ll just have to recognize it! I already figured out that_ Til hamingju með afmælið _is from a phrase Tony loves saying to you, and I don’t even speak Icelandic._

Jeff’s face flushes but his smile is broadening. Paula’s always really thoughtful with her gifts and he can already tell that he’s going to appreciate this one a lot. Perhaps he will revise _Til hamingju með afmælið_ so that it includes lyrics. He’ll have to keep secret whatever this voice synthesizing software sounds like, though, or Tony will finally realize who the _Tony_ in _Takk fyrir síðast, Tony_ (Jeff’s artistic pseudonym) refers to. Jeff is hoping to save that reveal for their next anniversary - _if_ he can overcome his shyness this time.

There’s a letter in the package as well, generously adorned with lace and stickers, the writing inside sporting a whole rainbow of colors that Ness surely had a field trip choosing and coordinating. The content is similar to their routinely telepathy sessions but its physical presence has a much more powerful effect on Jeff. He grips the corners with care, trying not to crumple them, and has to pull away when he starts crying so his tears won’t leave stains. He can differentiate between Paula and Ness’s handwriting at a glance, which is good since they kind of forgot to mention when one stopped writing and the other started. There are smaller messages scribbled into the sides - these are signed - that belong to people Jeff knows less well but nonetheless appreciates: Tracy, Ness’s mom, Orange Kid, Frank, Everdred, Picky – there’s even a pair of paw prints from Paula’s cat.

Jeff hasn’t even finished reading and he already knows that he’ll be sealing this piece of paper in a plastic file, which in turn will be stored in a special memory box he keeps under his bed.

It takes him a while to get through to last paragraph because his vision is blurred but it contains perhaps the biggest surprise of all: Ness and Paula want to come over for dinner (that’s how they’ve phrased it - _for dinner_ ). They’ve invited Poo, too, who graciously accepted and promised to be on the Snow Wood doorstep at five PM sharp in exactly one month. If they’ve got Poo involved like this, then the occasion can’t exactly be cancelled. It’s unusual for Ness and Paula to impose a gathering like this, especially in Jeff’s own home, but they must have a good reason. He’d take ages to plan such an event so this is probably just their way of lifting the weight from his shoulders by going ahead and smoothing out the details for him. It would be nice to have them over for a night, awesome even. Now he just has to figure out what “dinner” entrails in a boarding school where they eat pretty much the same thing every night.

A couple of trinkets are also in the package: toy vehicles, animal figurines, pins with slogans relating to outer space and the existence of cryptids, pieces of junk that _look_ like Jeff could make use of. They’re the little things Ness gathers throughout the year for his friends, delivering them once he thinks he’s amassed enough. They’re obviously tailored to Jeff’s interests, though there’s a handful that Jeff can tell are intended for Tony (the sticker of an iguana with sunglasses, for example; man, Tony _really_ wants a pet iguana).

The last gift is a bit harder to decipher. It’s an ice cream wrapper - fortunately without the actual ice cream, because it would’ve become a sopping mess after the week or so of being ferried across continents. Jeff holds it up to his face, contemplating the metallic colors and the slogan printed in the middle. It reads _Golden Gaytime_ and right underneath _It’s hard to have a Gaytime on your own!_

Jeff has to place a hand over his mouth and nose to try to contain the snorting that immediately spills out, though he ends up giggling for a solid six minutes anyway. He has to take a deep breath afterwards, stuffing the golden wrapper back into the box so he can carry the whole thing upstairs. Presumably, this wrapper is just a warning, a teaser, a promise - there’s going to be a _gaytime_ all right and it’s going to be with company. Ness is just the kind of guy to come up with a joke like this.

All this excitement has been great - it’s effectively warded off Jeff’s anxiety, allowing him to relax and feel ready for whatever first-day-of-college ordeals await him in a couple of hours. It has not, however, made him any drowsier, so he forces himself to settle down in the nearest lab room to do some quiet, quality reading. He clutches the package to his chest, feeling warmth spread from it, though that’s entirely abstract, like a placebo effect.

When exhaustion finally settles into his system, Jeff makes a last mental note to check the calendar pinned to their dorm door before slinking back into bed. He counts a month forward from today and it’s as he suspected: the date of their anniversary.

It’s been five years already since Jeff and Tony started dating. It’ll be a gaytime indeed.

* * *

The following day, Jeff shows Tony the letter because it’s easier than trying to explain. They read together, which forces Jeff to remember just how flattering his friends are throughout it, bordering quite snuggly on embarrassing. His face is soaked red and a nervous smile twitches on his lips by the time Tony finishes, though Tony would say that Jeff’s eyes are gleaming with a fierce but humble pride.

Tony immediately descends into an uproar.

“Dinner?” he exclaims, handing the letter back to Jeff and gripping the hems of his trousers with all ten fingers, a clear sign that he’s started perspiring inside that green uniform of his.

Panic is splintering across his face. His eyebrows arch to a dangerous height, crinkles forming above them. Small scale tremors are working their way into his skeleton, causing his legs to wobble. When he isn’t rambling, his upper teeth are clamped over his lip.

“They’re coming over for _dinner_?” Tony continues, releasing his shorts so he can express the severity of the statement by flapping his arms, “when have we ever had someone over for dinner, much less three people? Not just anyone, either. I’ll tell you who: the rest of the Chosen Four - together! Sure, I’ve met them, they’re lovely people, and I care deeply for them, you know I do - but I’ve never even been in the same room with all three of them at once! I’m positive they’d supply delightful company, but that’s precisely why this is so much, _too_ much. How am I supposed to know what food they like? Their allergies? I bet they have huge expectations. How formal are they talking when they say ‘dinner’?”

Tony delivers his spiel and then his voice fractures into heavy breathing. He clutches his breast with one hand, but starts sliding into hyperventilation and decides to ram his fist into it instead.

“Woah, there,” Jeff says, taking a hold of Tony’s hand and prying it open so he’ll stop hitting himself.

Jeff can sympathize with how quickly and easily Tony is possessed by powerful emotions, doomed to overheat like an exhausted computer if he isn’t talked out of it. Jeff makes sure to show his support by placing his other hand on Tony’s shoulder, pinching it hard enough to dig two of his fingers under Tony’s bone. It functions like a splash of cold water: a reminder that Tony, despite having dropped into a secluded and dread-plagued dimension for a moment, isn’t alone.

Tears are dripping from the corners of Tony’s eyes by the time he starts counting the beats of his heart, instructing it to slow down through controlled breathing. He tries to breathe through his stomach rather than his chest, a tactic he learned from his therapist.

Jeff rubs his thumb into Tony’s palm, offering him a smile.

Once his flight or fight reflex has been subdued, Tony murmurs a “thank you,” then hardens his features.

“We have to start planning right now, Jeffrey,” he says, “a month may seem like a lot of time but with school and whatnot we won’t have a lot of free time. Of course, this has to come second to our duties here, but it’s important that we aren’t hasty when we put this together. Your friends deserve good. They’re humble, but I’m certain they expect good, too. I can tell how important this must be for them, for you, maybe even for me. The letter says ‘dinner with you and Tony.’ I can handle most of the preparations alone but I’ll need your constant input. Tell me what they like and dislike, how they’d react, what impression it’d leave of us. You know them much better than me so I’m sure you want something they’ll recall fondly, too.”

Jeff meets Tony’s gaze for a second, an attempt to convey understanding even if it must be broken quickly. His teeth are gritted while he considers how best to respond. Tony sounds so earnest and Jeff wants him to know that he’s onboard.

“This… this should be my job, I think,” says Jeff, “I, I feel like they’re asking me to arrange it. I’m not even sure if you were supposed to see that letter. Maybe it was intended as a surprise for you.”

Tony giggles.

“Well, that doesn’t matter now, does it? I saw and I’m not forgetting any time soon. Just let me help, okay?” says Tony, gradually tipping himself in Jeff’s direction until their foreheads are touching, “I’d get involved eventually, anyway. They know that. Can you imagine Ness and Paula hosting a dinner? They’d never decide in what direction to point it. They’d argue over everything, from the color of the tablecloth to what dessert they should serve. We’re different, though. I trust you to pick the whole course. Just leave it to me to ensure each dish is ready on time.”

“I suppose I couldn’t keep a secret that big from you,” Jeff says, “you’d know… you always know what I’m up to. What’s on my mind.”

Jeff might’ve kissed his boyfriend right there and then, were it not for the fact that the possibility couldn’t even enter his mind. The sentiment is certainly present - the physical and emotional intimacy, the desire to convey appreciation in some special way - but Tony and Jeff have been dating for nearly five years and thus far only kissed once: during Jeff’s eighteenth birthday.

“Se, seriously, though,” Jeff goes on, “don’t stress yourself out. Y, y, you’re acting like we’re having my pa, parents over for dinner!”

Tony releases an energetic laughter again, backing away so he can poke Tony’s nose with his finger.

“Certainly feels like it’s my first time having your parents over for dinner!” counters Tony, “Paula, at the very least, is practically your mother.”

“Antonio!”

“It’s true, you can’t deny it! I’ve seen how she cares for you. She’s a mother to nearly everyone, but she’s especially attached to you.”

Jeff rolls his eyes, making a show out of how he disagrees, though honestly he’s not all that confident. He grew up without a mother so he lacks a realistic model to compare Paula to, but he’d be lying if he said that he’s never considered how well she fits into his idolized dreams of a mother that’d look after him and make him happy.

He’d never admit to that, though. Much less now that Tony’s figured it out, completely without aid. It really is as if Tony can read Jeff’s mind. Their own special telepathy.

“Okay, okay. Where do we get started?” Jeff asks.

“Hmm, I’ll have to make a list first,” answers Tony, “but we’ll definitely be borrowing the dining hall. Oh, maybe we can carry one of the tables outside? I’ll check the weather forecast. Wouldn’t an outdoor dinner be wonderful, Jeffrey?”

Tony has unconsciously moved both his hand and Jeff’s to his heart. He’s such a natural performer: effortless, quick, and beautiful. He’ll _definitely_ entertain Jeff’s friends, no question about it.

Jeff answers with a nod.

* * *

Poo is the first to arrive, materializing onto the Snow Wood front door at exactly five PM. Jeff and Tony are already waiting, scrambling so fast to greet him that Poo ends up shaking both of their hands at the same time. Poo’s wearing an enormous grin and dressed quite casually. It contrasts with the suits that Tony insisted he and his boyfriend sport, a realization that makes them bashful.

The dining table that they’ve prepared for their guests is located in a small grove, pine trees raised like the towers of a castle to form a protective circle around it. Jeff and Tony cleared enough snow to form a trail from Snow Wood to the site in question, hoping it’ll really surprise and delight the others. They want to wait for everyone to assemble before leading the way, however.

Tony is prepared to entertain Poo with some “small talk,” recalling all the questions and anecdotes that he spent the previous weeks repeating so he won’t stumble during any conversations today. Poo, however, has a surprise of his own stowed away. He teleports out of Winters and reappears less than a minute later, a long and quite heavy creature now held between his arms.

“Consider it a thank you gift, for inviting me, but also to commemorate the occasion,” Poo says, “you two aren’t exactly living alone yet, but you’ve started making a life together, haven’t you? It’s good manners to present young couples with something they’ll share. Therefore I humbly offer a possible addition to your household in the making.”

It’s an iguana, and Tony almost faints at the sight of it, narrowly saved by Jeff on his way down. The reptile shudders, opens his mouth, and emits a guttural noise. That’s all it takes for Tony to fall in love. He’s got a soft spot for zoology and the scaled sort have always been his favorite (he was considering adopting a snake once he moved out of Snow Wood, but that plan has just been overruled by one far better).

“It’s cold out here and this is a tropical creature so we should move inside before continuing this conversation,” Poo says, looking pleased by Tony’s reaction.

Jeff takes Tony’s hand to help guide him indoors. Tony’s still half dazed and keeps glancing back at Poo and the iguana. Once safe and snug within school walls, Poo places the reptile on the floor, petting his head a couple of times.

“I obtained him in the Deep Darkness region,” Poo begins, “I’ve been stationed in the Tenda Villages for quite a while, learning more about their culture and history, which entails the occasional expedition into the unpopulated jungle. I’ve become fascinated by how differently tendas above and below ground have developed, virtually identical in appearance but strangers when it comes to mindset and beliefs. Oh, sorry, I’m rambling a little bit, but that’s been the last eight months of my life, and I’m probably not leaving any time soon, either. Anyway, this little guy here is from Deep Darkness, and I’m a strong advocate of leaving nature where evolution placed it, but he’s been in a poacher accident and wouldn’t quite make it in the wild anymore. So I was musing over what to do with him, when it struck me - you two have mentioned, on several occasions, that you were interested in an animal companion. I also recall that Antonio’s quite the reptile fanatic.”

“We love him!” Tony exclaims.

Jeff is a bit shocked but he nonetheless nods, agreeing with his boyfriend’s decision. How they’ll persuade the school body to allow an iguana in their dorm shall be dealt with tomorrow. No point in spoiling something that Tony’s so irreversibly smitten with.

“Good! That’s good to hear. I’m sure he’s found a fine home here,” Poo says.

Stooping on his knees and hands, Tony draws his face close to the iguana’s and stares deeply into his eyes, pondering an important matter.

The answer hits him like an epiphany.

“Stanley Kubrick! Your name is Stanley Kubrick!”

Stanley responds with a loud sniff.

“Sta, Stanley Kubrick?” Jeff asks, astonished.

“Stanley Kubrick is a wonderful name,” Poo, who is unfamiliar with the existence of a human Stanley Kubrick, says.

“I suppose it’s got a ring to it,” Jeff concedes.

“Yes!” Tony exclaims, “Stanley Kubrick! Oh, Stanley Kubrick, you’re my new best friend! After Jeff, of course.”

Stanley produces a snort this time, which is about as vocal as iguanas get.

Tony stands up and says, “we should introduce him to our dorm.”

Nodding, Poo gently lifts Stanley from the floor and follows them upstairs. Incredibly enough, no one that walks past them is alarmed by the presence of an iguana.

Tony has just started putting those small talk skills to work, expressing his interest in Poo’s archaeological and sociological work, when entering their dorm reveals another surprise.

Paula has teleported into it and is waiting for them by the desk, a picnic basket hanging from her arm that Jeff’s willing to bet is filled with her cooking. Her idea of joining someone for dinner includes adding a bit of her personal flavor to the table.

“Jeff! Tony! And Poo, too!” Paula greets, walking up to them and enacting a pretend courtesy.

It’s more of an ongoing joke these days, since she used to do that all the time when her token attire was a pink dress. These days she flaunts a more unique getup, built from scratch to accommodate the fashion sense she developed during her adolescent years. It’s also a huge sign that she’s in a garage rock band - lead singer, electrical guitar, and everything. Her father offhandedly refers to it as “goth,” but Paula prefers the term “butch.” Her skeleton printed shirt and black platform boots would certainly be at home with either of those.

They spend a decent amount of time chatting after that. Tony explains that the meal will include a couple of recipes that he learned from Paula, much to her delight and excitement. She, in turn, says she’s been experimenting with pastries and wants everyone’s honest opinion on this batch. Meanwhile Poo talks some more about his experiences traveling the globe, edged on by all three audience members, who are all quite awed by everything he says.

Paula pulls Jeff aside at one point to tell him that she’s also brought her guitar and a microphone - she wants to perform a piece with him, and she’s not taking no for an answer. Jeff realizes that the planets have aligned for him to share a secret with Tony.

None of them are sure when or where to expect Ness. He’s unlikely to will himself anywhere outside of Snow Wood grounds but he’s been known to miscalculate his coordinates. Perhaps one of them should try to reach him with telepathy, just in case an expedition through the woods is in order.

Paula grabs Poo’s hands and they concentrate their PSI together to search for Ness. An answer comes within seconds. Sure enough, it’s a riot.

“He’s outside,” the psychics say in synchronization, “on the roof.”

“ _He’s on the roof_?” Jeff shouts.

This he has to see to believe. Fortunately, or unfortunately, Ness does not disappoint: they find him just as the psychics claim, feet placed precariously on some tiles while his arms embrace a window. The snow around him seems loose.

Ness spots them, flashes a smile, and shouts something but he’s too far away for any of them to hear him clearly. Paula makes a “hold on” sign with her hand and asks Poo if he can perhaps teleport up there before Ness slips and falls.

“I can do that,” is Poo’s answer, “along with dedicating a few hours out of my week to tutoring Ness on the proper use of teleportation.”

Paula sniggers. Jeff doesn’t laugh but his face sure looks like it wants to.

Ness is still clinging to Poo several minutes after he’s been delivered to safe ground. Tears are pouring from his eyes that land all over Poo’s clothes. He places a hand on Ness’s head and tries telling him that it’s okay, much in the same way that an owner would try to relax their overenthusiastic dog.

“C’mon, Ness, this isn’t even the worst you’ve ended up in because of a bad teleportation. Isn’t it about time you polished it?” Paula says.

Ness releases Poo so he can place his hands on his hips, shooting her an embarrassed look.

“Listen, that time I teleported directly onto an alien, immediately got diamondized, and Jeff had to save us with some hastily on-the-spot constructed multi-bottle rockets - not my fault! I was trying to get to _you_ , so I could save you without having to beat the alien. Would’ve been easier beating the alien with you, too.”

Paula chuckles.

“We’ve been over this Ness: I wasn’t even in the department store at the time. You just thought the Monotoli Building and department store rooms looked exactly the same.”

Crossing his arms over his chest, Ness produces a huff. He’s trying to look stern but it’s quivering with some other pent up emotion.

“Ness! It’s so good to see you!” Tony says, trying to fix the awkward atmosphere, “now that you’re here, we can head to the dining site-”

Tony can’t finish that sentence because right then Ness scoops him up from the ground in a bear hug, then plops him back down with a rough pat on the back.

“You’re looking good, Antonio!” Ness exclaims, back to his cheerful self.

Poo and Ness are the only people that always refer to Tony by his full name. Poo because of formality, Ness because the sound of it is more familiar.

Jeff uses Tony’s full name sparingly, but more often when he’s emotional. Tony is the same with Jeffrey.

Tony used to be intimidated by Ness’s demeanor but he’s quite used to it now, even appreciates it. Ness’s large size and complete lack of an indoor voice often leaves even the most extroverted individuals grappling to keep up with his gusto. He’s a ball of sunshine, however, and doesn’t hesitate to compliment his friends seven times before as little as exchanging hellos.

Once Tony became acquainted with all of this, Ness actually became Tony’s favorite of Jeff’s friends, though admitting to that would be rude.

As is customary for him, Ness kisses all of his friends on the cheek when he greets them. As of this year, he’s officially the shortest, while Paula has always been the tallest, a combination that leads to Paula having to bend down a bit so he can reach her. Whenever she decides to tease him by pointing out their height difference, Ness will grab her ear and blow into it as punishment. Paula just laughs.

“You guys sure dressed up,” Ness comments, referring to Jeff and Tony’s suites. Like Paula and Poo, Ness is wearing everyday sort of clothes.

Put on the spot, Jeff panics. The temperature isn’t low enough for the suits to not become suffocating sometimes.

“T, Tony insisted on them,” he mumbles.

“You picked them out, though,” adds Tony.

“W, well they’re not te, terrible, are they?” Jeff asks.

“They _rock_!” Ness shouts before anyone else can get a word in.

He’s grinning with every front tooth on display. It makes Jeff feel kind of great.

“Yeah, you’re both the type of guys that suit suits. Hehe,” Paula chimes in.

“Actually, we knew that you’d take the whole ‘dinner’ business seriously. Sorry it was bit mean for a joke,” Ness says.

“But we just wanted you two to be happy and comfortable!” Paula adds.

Jeff and Tony exchange tired looks, though they must admit that they do find each other attractive in these outfits. Maybe that’s the point.

“Anyway,” Ness interjects, “when’s dinner?”

* * *

Dinner is a success. Tony’s cooking skills prove enjoyable (“formidable” is how Paula phrases it). Ness gleefully professes that his mother would surely enjoy this steak, which is a huge compliment even for him. Tony prepared three different kinds of risotto in hopes that one would appease Poo but his distinct palette ends up loving all of them. Paula eats very little of each so she has room for everything, especially dessert. There’s quite a buffet: besides Paula’s pastries, Jeff brewed ice cream and crème brûlée completely from scratch.

“No way - you made toffee ice cream?” Ness asks, shocked. His words are somewhat muffled because he forgets to pull the spoon out of his mouth.

“Toffee is my favorite flavor, actually,” Jeff responds.

Ness does that thing where his eyes light up as if constellations have suddenly emerged from his irises. He bites the spoon and bends sideways so he can rummage through his backpack. The packages Ness lifts for everyone to see are soggy but the temperature seems to have preserved some of their original shapes. Ness’s face has flushed with pride.

“I almost forgot, but you reminded me! Toffee flavored ice cream bars! I’m even more excited for you to taste one now that I know that toffee is your favorite.”

Paula covers her mouth with one hand but bursts into laughter anyway.

“Ness - what _are_ those?”

Ness opens his mouth to answer but Jeff beats him to the podium.

“They’re golden gaytimes,” Jeff says in a dead serious tone, “and it’s hard to have a-”

Jeff’s gaze locks with Ness and they immediately reach an unspoken agreement. Together, they shout, “it’s hard to have a gaytime on your own!’

“Oh, we’re having a gaytime all right,” muses Paula.

Poo, unfamiliar with both the literal and colloquial definition of the term, merely nods to signal his approval. He’s inferred a positive connotation from their expressions.

Jeff and Ness spend the following twenty minutes giggling and snorting. Tony doesn’t join in but his face hurts from how wide he’s smiling.

The golden gaytimes are eventually passed around, one for each of them. Paula says it’s not bad, while Jeff confirms Ness’s suspicions that he absolutely loves it. Poo has assumed that this is some sort of delicacy in Eagleland and Winters and thus makes an effort to partake in its enjoyment.

“A golden gaytime is exactly what I wanted this to be like,” Ness says, “I mean, it’s always cold and dark here in Winters, so I thought, we gotta bring the sunshine to you once in a while, right?”

Jeff smiles fondly when he hears this.

“You have had a good time, right?” Ness asks, his complexion turning nervous.

“Of course,” Jeff replies, “a _gay_ time, Ness.”

Triumphant, Ness claps his hands together, then stuffs the remainder of the ice cream into his mouth. Remarkable how he’s immune to brain freeze.

The weather holds remarkably well by Winters standards, pleasantly cool but not enough to cause shivers. There isn’t as little as an inkling of snowfall while they’re out, either. The evening is left to develop naturally and without interruptions, leading to several hours of lively dialogue. They exchange stories regarding their individual lives and how their own corners of the world are faring. None of them have nearly as intricate lives as Poo, but he seems just as interested in their little anecdotes and adventures. It was, after all, the freedom with which they lead life that inspired him to seek out his own journey as well.

Despite all the fun they’re having, Jeff does have to break up the party once darkness settles into the sky, a sign that the temperature is about to drop significantly. He can’t expose his friends to the dangers of a cold, or worse (and sure, psychics know healing, but it’s a stressful ordeal anyway).

The group steps into Snow Wood, still looking every bit as enthusiastic as when they first arrived. They remain a tireless bunch, just as Jeff recalls from the months they spent touring the world.

Tony steps forward with a proposition.

“Uhm, okay, so since all of you have come an awful long way - and I know you’re all _psychics_ , so you can teleport back and forth within seconds. But it must still be exhausting, especially after using up all your energy here. Jeff and I don’t want to just turn you away like that, so we thought, we thought you might like to spend the night here instead? I mean, it’s entirely up to you, just an offer really. Don’t feel committed at all, if you have plans, or aren’t comfortable with it, or-”

“Aww, Antonio, you’re as thoughtful as ever!” Ness interrupts, “and you, too, Jeff - you should know we’re always down!”

“I do recall seeing a tent made entirely of bed sheets while I was waiting in your dorm,” says Paula.

“Pillow fort!” Ness shouts, throwing his fists into the air, “yes! It’s the best!”

“I would also be honored to join,” Poo says.

His lips curl a little bit, a hint of excitement appearing in his face.

“Does this mean we’ll be engaging in a movie marathon again?”

Whenever they settle as a group to watch movies, Poo is always the one that winds up most emotionally invested. The plot doesn’t especially matter because Poo’s never seen a movie outside of Ness and Jeff’s recommendations, making him easily impressible. He believes everything he sees on TV, at least while the film is rolling. He’s not shy about commenting and questioning throughout it, either, and often bursts into tears or laughter.

Ness’s start waving his arms around.

“Oh, oh, I brought some!” he says, “I wasn’t sure if there’d be a chance, but I always come prepared!”

Without requiring confirmation, Ness pulls open his backpack again, this time to dump out a variety of supernatural thrillers, primarily concerning aliens and artificial intelligence.

“I’ve got some real good ones this time! I know I always say that, but now I especially mean it! Some really, really, _really_ awesome ones!”

Jeff immediately scoots over to examine Ness’s library. As a fellow connoisseur of science fiction media, he’s eager to find out what gems he’ll be experiencing tonight.

Tony stands there with his mouth open. He’s amazed by how easily the pieces fall into place when they’re together. There’s never a boring moment because they’re constantly finding ways of entertaining not only themselves but their friends as well. It’s obvious from just spending an evening in their company that the Chosen Four share a long and complicated history. Tony is over his jealousy issues, though - now he just finds it heartwarming. Jeff deserves friends as good as these.

While Tony, Ness, and Poo are setting up the television for their movie night, Paula asks to speak in private with Jeff for a bit. Jeff assumes that it must be something serious but Paula’s expression is entirely playful. He anticipates what this’ll be about before she starts talking.

“You remember what I told you earlier, right? About setting up a little show for everyone. I picked a song you composed and designed an acoustics cover. I also organized some of the poetry you’ve been sending me so they function as lyrics. I’ve already done a test run at home, so now all we need is for you to actually sing them.”

Paula doesn’t ask if he can, or if he wants, or if he in any way opposes the idea. It’s a sign of trust, confidence that he can and will pull this off. If he has any serious objections, of course she’ll listen, but that’s usually not the case when Jeff feels that people have faith in him. He only proves people wrong when they badmouth him.

Jeff’s quiet for a spell, then says, “which song?”

Paul appears thrilled by his response. She unfolds a sheet of paper that’s been resting in her pocket, hands it to Jeff, and waits for his approval.

The title of the song is scribbled at the top: _Takk_. The lyrics Paula put together are underneath.

“You changed the last part, so it include Tony’s name,” Jeff observes.

“Well, you wrote it for him,” is Paula’s answer.

“Yes,” murmurs Jeff, “that’s right. It’s only fair that his name’s in it.”

“I knew you’d like it,” Paula says.

Jeff glances at her.

“But will he?”

Paula wraps her arm around his shoulder, rubbing her knuckles against the top of his head but not strong enough to actually hurt him.

“Of course he will! He loves your music!”

Jeff appears to be undergoing shock.

“Wait, was that a surprise? Oh well, cat’s out of the bag - he’s been listening to your stuff for ages! He’s talked to me about it. You’ve set yourself up more than you realize.”

Jeff starts shaking, his face contorting in a desperate attempt to preserve his demeanor. He wants very much to cry, but he swallows the knot on his throat, saves it for later.

“That’s. That’s a su, surprise for suuure. Y, yeah. To, Tony already know, knowing about my, my music?”

Speaking is still a struggle, though. Paula pats him in the back, shows him he doesn’t have to worry about that right now.

“Let’s just focus on this song, all right?”

* * *

Paula’s a seasoned musician so she performs spectacularly. Though she specializes in hard and gritty beats, she’s the secret underdog of acoustics. A traditional guitar fits just as comfortably into her hands as its electric cousin.

Jeff can’t say the same for his singing, but he dusts off his vocal cords and gradually gains confidence as he tweaks his voice into an appropriate tune. He knows his writing, the intended flow of each verse and what emotional influxes should emerge and then recede. This gives the lyrics a very natural feeling, like the illusion of an effortless masterpiece. He makes sure to sing beneath the instrumentals, embodying the skeleton rather than the face of the piece. Each word is roaring with meaning but he chooses to sacrifice them in favor of pleasing his spectators with the raw and abstract emotions that sounds naturally transmit. Jeff has never composed to deliver a clear message. He prefers to offer people the tools and then observe what they build with them.

Aware of this, Paula ensured that her adaptation captures the same undefined beauty of the original piece. Jeff likes it, quite a bit really. He feels an odd attachment to it, like visiting a site where childhood once overflowed but which has changed in fundamental ways. Nostalgic for a cover of his own song - that’s a new experience.

As they approach the end of the song, Jeff focuses on lowering his voice, hoping to just naturally fade into the background while rendering the mention of Tony obsolete. Instead his nerves decide to spike, like a hedgehog realizing they challenged a foe beyond their power, and his voice goes louder, and louder - shrill as if he’d heard an unexpected knock on the bathroom stall.

He splutters out “Tony,” certain that he’s been heard by everyone. He drops the microphone and covers his face with his sleeve.

Unfamiliar with Icelandic, Ness and Poo don’t register the significance of that finale. Tony, on the other hand, stands up and looks at Jeff, both bewildered and slightly intrigued. His first instinct is to assume that he misheard, yet a sapling of hope can’t help laying down roots.

Paula takes a step forward.

“Jeff,” she says, delicate, motherly.

Tony grabs his arm, starts rubbing it nervously.

“Je, jeez I’m not sure if what I think is going on is even possible, but I’m just going to go ahead and ask anyway.”

He sucks in a deep breath, then blurts it all out at once:

“Was that song about me?”

Without uncovering his face, Jeff nods. Then he gets scared and starts shaking it instead. He goes back and forth between these two very different signals, making his answer uncertain. Tony, however, has figured out where the truth resides.

“Thank you,” he says.

Jeff scrutinizes the significance of that phrase, paranoid that he somehow missed an edge of sarcasm or pity. Tony helps dispel such nasty thoughts by drawing Jeff into a tight embrace.

“Oh, Jeffrey, you told me that you were no good at poetry. I couldn’t understand the whole of it, but the bits I caught were far from no good,” Tony says, practically into Jeff’s shoulder.

Jeff swallows and musters an answer.

“W, well, I never really knew what to write about, so all my poetry came out dull, without personal significance.”

Backing up a bit so he can finally see Jeff’s face, Tony says, “I don’t understand. What changed?”

Jeff coughs. His entire complexion has flushed. Nervous, he pulls up his glasses.

“Hm, I suppose,” he says, emitting a chuckle, “I suppose that I found a muse.”

Tony gasps, along with everyone else in the room. He’s usually the sappier, more affectionate boyfriend, so he’s used to embarrassing Jeff – not the other way around.

“Jeffrey! That’s so… romantic,” Tony says.

Jeff tries to look unaffected but he feels like he’s losing a week’s worth of water in the span of seconds. The suit has become warm and uncomfortable. He hates perspiring.

“Y, you think so?”

Standing on his tiptoes, Tony plants a kiss on Jeff’s forehead. As close as they’ve gotten since the elusive mouth peck.

Before they can continue their little lovers’ waltz, Ness throws his arms into the air and starts clapping furiously. Poo joins in by placing two of his fingers in his mouth and whistling.

“Yeah! Yeah! That was awesome!” Ness shouts.

Jeff is dumbfounded. He forgot that there are other people in the vicinity and fails to understand why they’re acting this way. Then it hits him that he’s just concluded a song and his friends must be cheering for him.

“A, a, ah!” Jeff exclaims, a shudder passing through his entire body that leaves him paralyzed and tongue tied.

Tony is still smiling, seemingly unaffected by this development. Taking a couple of steps away from Jeff, he rejoins the audience so he can clap as well.

“Excellent job, sweetheart,” Tony says.

“Yeah, you totally rocked out there. In your own way,” Paula adds.

Once he reclaims his bearings, Tony makes a bow.

* * *

They sleep together, Ness in the middle, with the thickest blanket wrapped around him (stolen from everyone else because he’s _that_ person) and both his arms half around Jeff and Paula’s shoulders. Poo was once contained to a corner but now his body has shifted in his sleep and his head rests on Jeff’s stomach. Poo’s palm is placed over Jeff’s, as if they’d been holding hands just a moment ago.

Tony sleeps in a separate area, determined to avoid accidentally punching one of his guests in the face. He’s used to sleeping alone so it doesn’t feel strange, but seeing the other four all snuggled up together does make him a bit crestfallen.

Fortunately Stanley quickly settles at Tony’s feet. Tony has chosen to interpret Stanley’s sniffing as expressions of affection. Thus he grabs the reptile’s face, kisses him on the nose, and lies back down, not nearly as sad as before.

No one’s listening, but he says goodnight.

**Author's Note:**

> fun fact: i am now so tired from not sleeping for two days that i'm about to black out


End file.
